


summer solstice

by fallingthorns



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Bonding, Inspired by Parks and Recreation (TV show), M/M, Summer Romance, as in very loosely based, don't need to know anything about the show to understand this!, relationship building, sex included but not like graphic?, yes richie has six pets in this I couldn't tell you why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:14:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24760621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingthorns/pseuds/fallingthorns
Summary: Eddie is so much different than Richie initially thought. Richie knows he was unfairly harsh on him in the first twenty-four hours of meeting him, but in his defense, his job is literally on the line and Eddie has all the power in the world to put an end to his career. But Eddie is . . . he’s funny as hell, for one. He can match Richie insult for insult, and the fact still stands that he is one hundred percent Richie’s dream man.--Or, Richie works for the Parks and Recreation Department in Derry, and Eddie is a state auditor sent to assess the effectiveness of the department. A summer story about falling in love.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 31
Kudos: 229





	summer solstice

**Author's Note:**

> This was only supposed to be a quick 2k word fic, but clearly that got away from me. The boys cannot be controlled. So enjoy this long, fun fic inspired by my most recent binge of Parks and Recreation. You don't need to have seen the show at all to understand this.
> 
> Content Warning: Brief alcohol mentions. Discussions of potentially losing job and stress that may come with that. The usual swearing that accompanies these two.

“What.” Richie blinks at Ben as he sits across the desk from him. There is no way he just heard Ben correctly. “What.”

Maybe saying it twice will change what Ben said.

“You heard me. The state auditors are coming this week.”

Richie blinks again. Damn.

The Parks and Recreation Department of Derry, Maine has been thriving the past few years. Or at least, Richie likes to think so. They have an empty lot with a hole in it that would make a fabulous park if they ever manage to get the hole filled, and they are trying to spruce up the parks they currently have.

The problem, as it always is, is money. They don’t have enough of it, and Derry doesn’t have enough of it. And what will get slashed first if the state auditors decide that a department needs to go?

The Parks Department. Because apparently, to everyone in the world except for Richie, nature is fucking expendable.

“But consider this,” Richie replies after a few seconds. “How about they just . . . Don’t come?”

“You know it doesn’t work like that, Rich,” Ben says, folding his hands and leaning back in his desk chair. “I just wanted to give you a warning so you can maybe start prepping your stuff and the staff.”

“My stuff,” Richie repeats. Because Ben thinks he has stuff? It’s all in his brain, the safest place imaginable. The old noggin.

He tells Ben so.

Ben sighs and rubs his hand across his face. “Okay, well, maybe put some spreadsheets together, then,” he says. “They’re going to want to _see_ something.”

“I’m sure Stan has all that fun numbers shit,” Richie replies.

“Richie,” Ben says with another sigh. “You are Deputy Director. You really should have documents for things.”

“I don't need documents! I just think it and it happens! Why would I need binders and shit to organize my thoughts when they are _already_ organized where it matters?” Richie taps his head again.

“Just . . . gather everything we’ll need, please,” Ben mumbles, dropping his head onto the desk. “Make my job a little bit easier for once.”

As Richie exits Ben’s office, he looks around the Parks and Recreation office and thinks. He loves his job, however frustrating it is to work for the government. He spends about fifty percent of his time outside, which Richie fucking loves, and he spends about one hundred percent of his time talking to people. Which Richie also fucking loves, because he hates not talking. So all in all, it’s a pretty great job and he would hate to see it go.

He also gets to work with some of his best friends. Stan, the numbers guy, who was probably the love of Richie’s life in another universe. Patty, the current love of Stan’s life and the public relations expert, who Richie adores. Ben, their boss, who Richie loves outside of the office and tolerates within the office. He doesn’t see Mike very often, as he is city manager and works in a different part of the building, but he loves that he is just a few floors away if he needs him. And then Bill, who grudgingly still works for the office when all he really wants to do is write novels.

He really would hate if he lost this job. It is kind of all he has, if Richie is honest with himself. Perpetually single due to the very slim pickings that Derry has to offer for his particular boxes. Which, Richie frequently tells himself, are _really_ not that picky. Single. Gay. He really doesn't ask for much at this point.

But he has this job and five cats and a dog. He’s set as long as the fucking state auditors don’t cut their funding, which would effectively make Richie immediately jobless.

Richie exits Ben’s office and heads over towards Stan’s desk. “Stanley,” he says. “I need numbers.”

“What did you do now?” Stan asks, not looking up from his computer.

“I didn’t do anything,” Richie says with a huff. “Ben says the state auditors are coming.”

“Fuck,” Stan replies, finally looking up at Richie. “Fine. I’ll pull the fucking numbers.”

Richie perches on the edge of Stan’s desk, watching as he pulls the numbers for the quarter. “Did he say where the auditors are from?” Stan asks after a couple of minutes.

“I think he said Pennsylvania,” Richie replies.

Stan hums and clicks away from his spreadsheets before heading to the internet browser. Richie raises an eyebrow and watches him as he quickly navigates to the city of Pennsylvania’s webpage and pulls up a list of employees.

“Oh, so we’re cyberstalkers now,” Richie says. “This is a thing we’re doing now.”

“Shut up,” Stan replies. “Look at them.”

Richie looks at the pictures. They’re just headshots that don’t reveal much. The first is of a woman, Beverly Marsh. Her red hair is fierce, Richie thinks, but her smile is soft and might even out the fierceness of her hair. He hopes.

The second picture, however, is not as hopeful.

The man is all but frowning at the camera. His eyes are giant fucking doe eyes, Richie thinks, and how can eyes look so sad and angry at the same time? The picture extends down past his shoulders, and Richie notes that his polo seems to hug his shoulders nicely. And – what the fuck is he doing thinking like that? Richie glances at the name. Edward Kaspbrak. He looks like a shithead.

“We’re fucked,” Richie says, still looking at the second picture. “He looks like trouble.”

“He looks like your dream man, to be honest,” Stan says, tilting his head and looking at his picture. “Angry. Frowny. Big eyes.”

“Shut up,” Richie replies. “You literally can’t tell that from a shoulder-up picture.”

“You didn’t disagree,” Stan says quickly. “We might be fucked professionally, but I think you are also fucked personally.”

“I’m not going to fuck him!” Richie says, probably a little louder than necessary. “He’s going to make us homeless,” he adds, quieter.

“I literally didn’t say you were going to fuck him,” Stan says with a huff. “I just said you are fucked if he is even a quarter of how he looks in that picture because, as I said, he looks like your dream man.”

Richie glances around to make sure nobody else is looking before quickly giving Stan the finger and walking to his office.

Whatever. He’s not Richie’s fucking dream man. He’s not. Anyone who comes into this town and threatens to get rid of Richie’s job is not his dream man. He cares about the parks and about nature, and anybody who doesn’t see how important that is absolutely _cannot_ be Richie’s dream man. There’s no way.

He tells himself he doesn’t think about the small picture of Edward Kaspbrak the rest of the day. If he’s lying, there’s no one to know but himself.

* * *

“Greta. Ralph. Bonk,” Richie says as he slips his shoes on to head into work for the day. “You three are in charge today.’

Three of Richie’s five cats look up at him. Greta brings her paw up towards her face and starts inspecting it, effectively ignoring him.

“Don’t let the dog play in the litter,” Richie tells Ralph. “You know that Butters loves to eat your shit if he can.”

Ralph yawns.

“I will probably be jobless by the time I come home,” Richie continues. “So enjoy your last meals of financial stability today!”

Greta finally seems to have had enough of Richie and stalks off towards the kitchen. “Stay off the fucking counters!” He shouts after her with a sigh.

“Goodbye!” He yells into the house for the rest of his animals that didn't see him off. “Behave!”

As Richie drives to work, he groans just thinking about the state auditors coming today. They’ll look at their numbers and the numbers of the whole branch, and they’ll determine that the Parks Department should be cut. He is prepared for the worst at this point, and he at least hopes they’ll deliver the blow swiftly and smoothly.

Richie all but sulks into the office, giving Stan a sad wave as he walks past his desk. “They’re here already,” Stan says as he passes.

“What.” Richie replies, pausing next to Stan’s desk.

“They’re here. In Ben’s office.” Stan nods towards the closed door.

“They’re already talking?”

“Seems like it,” Stan says, focusing on his computer again. “And for the record? He _is_ your dream man.”

Richie groans. “Fuck me!” He says as he walks into his office. “If you need me, I’ll be in here purchasing my gravesite.”

“Cool,” Stan replies just before Richie shuts his door. “Get me one next to you.”

Richie closes his door and buries his face in his hands. He thought he would at least have a few hours of peace in the office before finding out he didn’t have a job. He has cats and a dog to support, damn it, he _can’t_ lose his fucking job because two out-of-staters come in and tell them they aren’t doing their job effectively. In what world is that fucking fair?

No point in doing any work now, Richie thinks. If he isn’t going to have a job in an hour, he might as well enjoy his last moments in his office instead of actually working in it. Richie slides out of his chair, slithering to the floor until he is flat on his back under his desk. His slides his legs out from under the desk so they are out in his office space, his head under the desk closest to his chair.

This, Richie thinks, is the perfect spot to die. His legs will immediately be seen by anybody entering the room, and it’ll be the perfect last image of him that anybody has. It is pure genius on his part. Maybe if he’s lucky, someone will even trip on his legs, hopefully one of the state auditors.

Richie studies the wood on the underside of his desk. Mahogany, really a beautiful desk, Richie thinks. It’s served him well the past several years. Too bad it’s all coming to an end in just a few short moments now. Maybe Ben will let him keep the desk.

After a few moments, Richie hears the phone on his desk ring once, twice, three times. He lets it ring. It’s probably just Ben telling him to meet him in his office so that he can deliver the final blow. Richie hopes it will at least be a swift jab.

Richie lets out a sigh, inhaling the scent of the underside of his desk. Maybe he can get a job in an adjacent department. He’ll probably have to start lower on the totem pole, but at least he will be able to sustain the current state of life for him and his animals.

Richie raises an eyebrow when he hears a brief knock on the door. Time for his demise.

“Come in,” he says, making no attempts to move from his spot under the desk. He hears the door open, followed by the soft sound of footsteps entering the room.

“What the . . .” Richie hears somebody mumble. It doesn’t sound like Ben; the footsteps are too quiet, but Richie otherwise cannot tell who it is just by the brief whisper of the intruder’s voice.

Richie listens as the person comes around to the other side of the desk, closest to where Richie’s head is. Richie glances up just as he sees a head with soft-looking brown hair, furrowed eyebrows, and the largest eyes Richie has ever seen bend down and look at him.

“The fuck are you doing?” The head says. Richie continues looking up at him, laughing in surprise at his language.

“Language?” He replies to the upside-down head. “This is an office.”

“I can say whatever I want,” the man says, and it clicks that this is Edward Kaspbrak. Of course. The furrowed brow and big eyes should have given it away. “I don’t work here.”

Richie laughs again before sighing dramatically. “Neither do I,” he replies with another sigh.

“What are you fucking talking about?” Edward says. “You’re Richie, right? Tozier? The nameplate outside of your door says that you do, in fact, work here.”

“Not for much longer, then,” Richie says. “You’re here to slash my job.”

“I’m not – Jesus, I’m not here to just immediately give you the boot,” Edward says with a huff. “Can you come out so we can have a proper conversation?”

“I came out years ago, thanks,” Richie says as he slides himself out from under the desk. “Didn’t know I needed to do it again.”

Richie stands upright, straightening out his pants and shirt before properly looking at his visitor.

He’s shorter than Richie by only a few inches. Small but sturdy frame. Eyes still just as big. Brow still just as furrowed. Biceps that are slightly bulging out of his nicely fitted polo.

Damn. Richie’s dream man. Stan was right, the fucker.

“Richie,” he says as he holds a hand out for him, and they shake hands briefly. “Sorry you found me in that sorry state.”

“Eddie,” he replies. “I can’t say that’s what I was expecting when I entered your office.”

“Can’t a man wallow about losing his job under the safety of his desk?” Richie replies, leaning against his desk and crossing his arms. Eddie is standing with his arms folded across his chest, and it looks like he might be trying to fight a smile.

“I literally could not care less about what you do,” Eddie replies. “But you still have a job.”

Richie blinks at him, watching as Eddie raises an eyebrow at him. “I do?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “We’re here to observe for a few months. Bev – Beverly Marsh, my partner – and I have looked over your files that Mr. Hanscom gave us. It’s not great, but we’re going to stick around and see if we can make some improvements during the next few months.”

“Improvements?” Richie asks. He doesn’t like the sound of that.

“No job cuts just yet,” Eddie clarifies. “Just budget cuts for now. Necessities verses expendables. Things like that.”

“Hm,” Richie replies with a hum. He thinks for a moment, glancing at Eddie. Eddie stands there and watches him, his eyebrow still raised. “I still don’t like you,” Richie says after a moment.

“Not many people do,” Eddie muses, his voice a little softer. “I’m often the bad guy in these situations.”

“What, people don’t love the guy who comes in from out of town and slashes jobs left and right?” Richie retorts. “Shocking.”

“Shut up,” Eddie says with a huff. “Give me your contact information so we can further discuss some of the changes that will need to happen.”

* * *

Richie drives home and thinks. He has to dislike Eddie out of principle. He is there to potentially get rid of their department. He’s also kind of rude and crass, which _should be_ a turn-off for normal people. Richie is, unfortunately, usually attracted to people who can match him for an insult.

Richie sighs as he pulls into his driveway. Of course the one fucking guy that Richie has an inkling of attraction for is both from out of state and here to slash his job. Of course. At least _that_ is Eddie’s only turn-off, because it is a pretty fucking big one.

“Damn fucking doe eyes,” Richie mumbles as he unlocks his front door. “Evil fucking demon sent to haunt me personally.”

Richie is greeted by all five cats and a dog. He leans down to scratch behind Butter’s ears before setting his stuff down and leashing him up to take him outside. “You’re the only man for me, Butters,” he says as Butters sniffs around to find a place to relieve himself.

Richie feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulls it out and glances at the new email from an [ekaspbrak@penn.gov](mailto:ekaspbrak@penn.gov). Of fucking course he wouldn’t even give Richie an evening of peace.

_Mr. Tozier,_

_It was a pleasure meeting you today. Attached you will find some notes that Beverly Marsh and I accumulated regarding how we can improve your budget and spending in order to hopefully sustain the future of the Parks and Recreation Department. Please read it over prior to our meeting at 10 AM tomorrow._

_Sincerely,_

_E. Kaspbrak_   
_State Auditor_

Richie, out of pure spite for this man only, hates the formality of the email. Nobody has called him Mr. Tozier since the days where he was scolded by his teachers in high school.

After dinner has been made and cleaned and all of the animals have been fed, Richie lounges on the couch and reads over the documents Eddie sent over. There are . . . a lot of documents. More documents than Richie could ever read in an evening. Eddie is thorough, organized, and extremely, extremely long-winded. His notes are even color-coded, much to Richie’s dismay.

Richie resigns himself to the fact that this is, unfortunately, important. He grabs a notebook and starts scribbling down notes to discuss during their meeting tomorrow. If he makes his handwriting a little messier than usual out of spite, then that is between himself and his six pets.

* * *

“We can’t cut the summer festival!” Richie shouts at the meeting the next day. “What good would that do?”

“It would save money,” Eddie begins as he lifts a finger up for each point. “It would decrease spending. It would save resources. It would –”

“Okay, sure, money, blabla,” Richie says with a huff. “But it also brings in money! Vendors charge for items at their booths and give us a percentage. People can give free will donations.”

“Not enough,” Eddie retorts. “If you look at my calculations –”

“Fuck your calculations,” Richie says with a huff, storming towards the door. “Sorry for the language, Ben, but it was necessary.”

Ben waves him off, telling him that it’s both okay that he swore and that it’s okay for him to leave. Richie storms out of the conference room and heads towards his office.

“What –” Stan starts to say when he sees Richie all but sprinting towards his office.

“Don’t want to talk about it,” Richie says quickly before all but slamming his office door.

Richie slumps into his chair, propping his elbows on his desk and letting his head flop into his hands. If he wasn’t losing his job from the state auditors, he probably is at least getting a reprimand for language during a meeting. Ben is usually okay with how Richie is, but Richie knows he should at least try and control himself with visitors.

Visitors. Richie shakes his head and scoffs. Some visitors Edward Kaspbrak and Beverly Marsh are.

The summer festival is Richie’s pride and joy. It’s what he looks forward to planning every single year. It’s fun, it brings in at least some money, and everyone in the office genuinely enjoys putting it on in one of their parks. Richie started it his first year working for the Parks Department and he hasn’t missed a year since.

But now, it doesn't look like it’s going to happen this year. This might be Richie’s last summer with this job, and he isn’t even going to get to plan his favorite event of the year.

Some life this is.

Richie is startled out of his thoughts by a knock on the door. “Come in,” he says before dropping his head back into his hands.

“Hey.”

Richie glances up, seeing Eddie standing in the doorway. It is sort of reminiscent to yesterday, except this time, Richie isn’t under his desk in a fit of dramatics, and Eddie isn’t swearing at his antics. Eddie has a slight frown on his face as he looks at Richie, his brow creased a little and his head ducked a slightly.

“Great,” Richie says, rubbing a hand over his face. “What are you going to tell me now?”

“Richie, I . . .” Eddie starts before trailing off. He takes a breath before nodding towards a seat on the opposite side of Richie’s desk. “May I?”

Richie nods, and Eddie slowly walks over to the chair and drags it a little closer to the desk before sitting down.

“I didn’t realize the summer festival was that important,” Eddie starts again.

Richie shrugs. “It’s just a festival.”

“Richie . . .” Eddie starts again.

“Look,” Richie says. “The festival is my child, alright? I’ve been putting it on every year since I started working here. The staff loves it, the community loves it. It’s good publicity for whichever park we host it in. It’s just something everyone looks forward to every year, but. It’s fine. We’ll survive without it.”

Eddie watches him, biting his lip. Richie sighs and looks up at the ceiling, unsure of what else there is to say.

“I don’t love this job, you know,” Eddie says softly. “I don’t hate parks or nature. I don’t want to make you get rid of something that is so meaningful. I would actually hate to see a Parks Department go. I think they’re needed in every local government.”

Richie blinks at him, noting that Eddie’s voice is softer than usual. He’s looking down at his hands in his lap, avoiding Richie’s gaze as he talks.

“But this is my job,” Eddie continues. “I need to show that you are effective for your local government. We were called here for a reason, so I do need to do my job.”

And now Richie feels like an asshole. He’s been hating this fucking attractive guy for the past twenty-four hours just because he’s doing his job. He forgets that not everyone is as passionate about their job as Richie is.

“But,” Eddie continues. “I did work up another solution.”

Eddie takes out a piece of paper with some scribbles on it. Eddie’s handwriting, unlike everything that Richie has seen about him so far, is basically illegible. He sets the paper on Richie’s desk so it’s facing him.

“This is not English,” Richie tells him.

“Shut up and listen then,” Eddie replies quickly. “We can do the summer festival. We might need to rebrand it a bit, get some sponsors to donate more money. It needs to be profitable. We’ll have to cut some of the more minor events happening later in the year, though.”

Richie watches as Eddie points on the paper with the corresponding notes as he talks.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming,” Richie says.

Eddie gives him a small smile, his eyes creasing at the corners. “But,” he says with a chuckle. “If it doesn’t reach this amount of money, the Parks and Recreation Department is done.”

Eddie points at a number written in large letters and circled three times at the bottom of the page. It’s a big number. Bigger than the festival has ever made in the past, much to Richie’s dismay.

“It’s a risk,” Eddie continues. “But I really think we can do it. Especially with you taking the lead.”

Richie looks at him again, feeling himself deflate a little. “You keep saying ‘we’,” Richie says. “You really don’t have anything to do with this.”

“I do now,” Eddie replies. “I want you to succeed, Richie. I don’t want you to lose your job.”

“Why?”

Eddie takes a deep breath and looks up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. I just feel like you deserve it.”

Richie watches him and has to remind himself that he can’t have feelings for this man. But, maybe he can admit that he isn’t as evil as Richie pegged him to be yesterday.

“Maybe I don’t hate you,” Richie muses with a small smile.

“Oh, well thanks, dickwad,” Eddie laughs with a huff. “Just what every guy wants to hear.”

* * *

Suddenly, Richie’s days are full of planning for the summer festival while also trying to assist with the budget cuts and adjustments. One week passes, then two, then three. He is busier than he has ever been, and his job is literally on the line, but for some reason he feels happier than he has in a long time.

He refuses to admit why.

Eddie slaps his arm from where he’s sitting next to him. They’re outside eating lunch at one of the picnic tables. Eddie has his sunglasses on as he eats his salad, but Richie can see his eyebrow raise from under his glasses.

“What?” Richie says, blinking. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Obviously,” Eddie replies. “I just asked what your plan for the weekend was?”

Richie blinks at him, pausing with his sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Uh,” he says, looking at his sandwich and taking a bite. “Nothing that I can think of.”

“Come to Pennsylvania with me.”

Richie blinks at Eddie again, swallowing his bite of sandwich. He must have heard Eddie wrong, there’s no way he would be inviting him to Pennsylvania, what would Richie even have to do there? It doesn’t even make sense –

“Richie,” Eddie sings with a trill in his voice. “Pay attention to me, dickhead.”

“Sorry, sorry, I keep zoning out,” Richie replies.

“Clearly.”

“But, um. Why would we be going to Pennsylvania?”

Eddie hums and finishes the last bite of his salad, closing his dish and setting it to the side. “I have to head back for the weekend for just a few meetings,” Eddie says. “But I also know that their Parks Department may also be willing to sponsor the festival. I could set you up a meeting.”

“Oh,” Richie says. He blinks again.

Eddie is so much different than Richie initially thought. Richie knows he was unfairly harsh on him in the first twenty-four hours of meeting him, but in his defense, his job is literally on the line and Eddie has all the power in the world to put an end to his career. But Eddie is . . . he’s funny as hell, for one. Richie isn’t one to admit it, but he might be funnier than Richie. He can match Richie insult for insult, and the fact still stands that he is one hundred percent Richie’s dream man.

“Shouldn’t you take Ben?” Richie says after a moment. “He is my boss.”

“I could,” Eddie says with a shrug. “But I want you to come. I mean, I think you should come. It’s your passion project.”

Richie thinks Eddie’s cheeks might turn a little pink, but Eddie quickly ducks his head and starts packing his stuff up.

“Um, just let me know by tomorrow, okay?” Eddie says as he stands up.

“Sure thing, Eds,” Richie says, watching as he quickly scurries away.

“Don’t call me that!” Eddie shouts as he walks into the building, flashing Richie the finger before the door closes behind him.

That . . . was one of the odder experiences Richie has had with Eddie, to say the least. Richie groans and drops his head onto the table, banging it a few times for good measure.

He’s fucked. He is Fucked with a capital F. He has only known Eddie for a few weeks now, and they only really see each other at work. Sure, they eat lunch together and spend time in the car together driving around town (for work!), but they are coworkers. Richie talks and jokes and laughs with plenty of his coworkers. They are his best friends! It is normal to want to do things with your coworkers!

No. Richie sighs. It’s not the same and he knows it. He just wonders if Eddie knows it, too.

* * *

The day before they leave for Pennsylvania, Richie has to head to a park to confirm its dimensions for the festival. It’s one of his favorite parts of his job, and it could easily be handed off to someone else in the department. But he loves getting out of the office and walking around the park, imagining where things will go during an event and picturing how everything will look the day of.

As Richie rounds the corner as he heads out of the office, he nearly runs into Eddie. He grabs Eddie’s shoulders to steady him as he wobbles, his body flopping forward into Richie’s as he holds him still.

“Whoa,” Richie says. “Sorry, Eds.”

Eddie blinks up at him but doesn’t say anything. Richie’s hands are resting on the side of Eddie’s shoulders, his hands half on Eddie’s bare biceps and half resting over the sleeves of his polo.

“Um,” Richie says after a moment. He removes his hands and wipes his now slightly sweaty palms on his pants. “Sorry. Should take those corners a little wider.”

Eddie blinks at him again and nods. “No. I mean, yes. Same. Me too. Wider hands. I mean. Wider turns.”

Now it’s Richie’s turn to blink at Eddie. Wider hands? Richie wonders if Eddie is feeling okay or if he’s coming down with a cold. Eddie usually isn’t one to stumble over his words, but. Hands? What does that have to do with anything?

Eddie turns beet red and looks up at the ceiling, almost like he is asking for a lightning bolt to come down and smite him out. Richie watches him, unsure if he should reach out or say something to snap Eddie out of his ceiling staring.

“Uh,” he says after a moment. “I was about to head to the park for some dimensions if you want to come?”

Eddie looks back down from the ceiling only to look up at Richie. His eyes are wide, and Richie still thinks that there is a faint tint of pink on his cheeks.

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie replies after a second. “I don’t have anything going on this afternoon and it’s a nice day out.”

“Cool,” Richie replies before nodding in the direction he was heading.

“Can I change first?” Eddie asks before they start walking. “It’s just hot out and I am not exactly dressed for the heat.”

“Sure,” Richie replies. “You have a change of clothes here?”

“I just keep shorts in my car because I usually go to the gym after work,” Eddie replies as he starts to jog towards his car. “Give me five seconds.”

Richie blinks at Eddie as he grabs his shorts and jogs back into the building to change. Shorts. Pants that end above your knee. Short pants. Shorts. Richie did not think this through. Eddie is going to be wearing shorts while sitting in the car next to him. While walking in the park next to him. Eddie. Shorts.

Fuck.

“Ready?” Eddie asks as he jogs back out of the building.

Shorts. Shorts that are much shorter than Richie had even anticipated. They are gym shorts, true to Eddie’s word, that end slightly above mid-thigh. Eddie’s legs are toned, and Richie pretends he doesn’t notice his muscles flexing as Eddie jogs towards him.

“Yep. Peachy. Ready,” Richie babbles before turning abruptly and hopping into the driver’s seat. Eddie slides in next to him, bouncing in the seat a little.

They drive to the park in relative silence. Richie stares at the road and absolutely does not glance over at Eddie to see him sitting next to him in the shorts. He doesn’t. There’s no proof.

Once at the park, Richie pulls out his phone to start recording measurements. He snaps a few pictures of some spots in the park where he thinks specific booths or attractions should go. He’s glad he’s still able to focus even with Eddie wandering around in his shorts.

“What’s this?” Eddie’s voice sounds from a little off to Richie’s side. Richie glances over to see Eddie looking at a big tree, his hand stroking the bark in front of him.

Richie walks over to the tree. Of course Eddie is at this fucking tree.

“Uh,” Richie says. “It’s the Kissing Tree.”

The tree is tall, the tallest tree in the park. Its trunk is wider than Eddie and Richie combined, and it is covered in carvings of initials that have been engraved into it since before Richie can even remember.

“So, what, people make out here and then carve their initials into the tree?” Eddie asks, his fingers tracing along a few of the initials.

“I guess,” Richie says with a shrug. “Locals say those who carve their initials into it will be together forever. Which I’m sure is fake as hell since it’s usually just a bunch of teenagers who do it.”

“You have any initials on here?” Eddie asks, his voice a little softer now, craning his neck to look higher up on the tree.

“No,” Richie replies. “Wasn’t out in high school. Didn’t particularly want to bring a girl here. Haven’t had anyone to bring here since.”

Eddie glances at Richie, and Richie freezes. Eddie is looking at him in a way that Richie can’t place. His eyes are wide – but aren’t they always wide? He looks like he wants to say something, but Richie’s phone vibrates in his pocket, alerting him that it’s time to head back to the office.

“Sorry, Spagheds,” Richie says, turning his alarm off. “I’ll be late for my meeting if we don’t leave now.”

“No problem,” Eddie says, his voice back to normal as he follows Richie towards the car. Eddie lingers behind Richie, and Richie almost swears that he can feel Eddie staring at his back. But he’s probably just making that up.

Right?

* * *

The flight to Pennsylvania is uneventful. They arrive at the airport Saturday morning and rush to their terminal before boarding. Richie, always the anxious flier, promptly orders a Bloody Mary and passes out for the entirety of the flight.

Once they are landed in Pennsylvania and in the cab, Eddie slides in the back next to him and closes the door. “So, I have meetings most of today,” Eddie says quickly as he looks through the calendar on his phone. “Your meeting with our Parks Department is at 3 PM. Do you need anything before that?”

“I don’t think so,” Richie replies. “I have my laptop and binders, so I think I should be good.”

“Cool. Tomorrow morning, I have a few meetings, and we’ll have about two free hours before we have to leave,” Eddie says.

“Sounds good,” Richie says. “I do feel kind of bad that you paid for my flight here just for one meeting, though.”

“Don’t,” Eddie replies softly. “I like the company.”

Richie doesn’t sigh, but he wants to. He cannot think too deeply about anything Eddie says right now while sitting next to him in a small cab in Pennsylvania.

Once at the hotel, they check-in and head up to their rooms. “Want to meet for dinner?” Eddie asks, his hand on the doorknob to his room. “My treat.”

“No way, shithead,” Richie says with a huff. “I mean, yes, obviously yes to dinner, but I’m paying. You paid for my flight. I think I can handle a dinner.”

Eddie grins and scans his keycard over the scanner before turning the knob and opening the door. “Perfect,” he says with a grin. “It’s a date.”

Richie blinks as Eddie closes the door behind him. He stares at the closed door for a moment before looking up at the ceiling.

It’s a fucking _what?_

Richie scrambles to open the door to his room, pushing it open before all but slamming it shut behind him. Eddie said it’s a date. A date? Dates can mean all sorts of things. Just a date in his calendar. A specific time he is going to have dinner with Richie.

For fuck’s sake. He is almost 35 years old. He is too old to be contemplating what the definition of a date is to one Edward Kaspbrak.

What the fuck is he going to wear?

Richie groans and flops onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He has his meeting in three hours, and then he’ll have an hour before dinner. An hour before his date? How the fuck is he supposed to be able to focus during his meeting if all he is thinking about is his maybe-date with Eddie?

With a sigh, Richie sits back up and drags his backpack over to the desk. He pulls his binder out and starts skimming his notes for the meeting. He needs to focus; he needs this meeting to go well so that him and his friends can all keep their jobs. He can focus on something other than Eddie for a few hours to do that.

* * *

Richie’s meeting goes better than expected. Richie has always been told that his enthusiasm for his job is contagious, and he comes out of the meeting with a promise for sponsorship. It’s good – it’s _really_ good. It’s only a fraction of the money they need to raise from the festival, but it’ll help pay for some expenses so that they can actually make some money during the event.

Richie takes a deep breath. He just hopes that he’s doing enough.

He makes his way back to the hotel, and as soon as he’s in the elevator, he remembers what’s happening tonight. A maybe-date with Eddie.

Eddie, who wears fucking shorts, who smiles and laughs at Richie’s jokes right before insulting him back. Eddie, who sometimes looks at Richie in a way Richie is sure he’s never been looked at before.

He doesn’t know what he feels for Eddie. He doesn’t know what he _should_ feel for Eddie. Is it a conflict of interest for the state auditor to have feelings for the Deputy Director of the department he is auditing? Should Eddie even have feelings for him? Is he putting his career in jeopardy by going on this maybe-date with Eddie?

Richie looks through his clothes. He wasn’t really planning on needing anything fancy, so he didn’t bring anything particularly nice other than the meeting outfit he is currently wearing. Maybe if he just switches his bottoms with a pair of jeans, he’ll look put together, but it won’t look like he tried too hard.

Who is he? Richie doesn’t worry about how he looks. He doesn’t think about clothes and he doesn’t care what other people think of how he looks.

Fucking Eddie Kaspbrak makes him crazy.

* * *

Halfway through dinner, and Richie still isn’t sure if this is a date.

Eddie is dressed casually. Jeans and a shirt, nothing remarkable. Or, it wouldn’t be remarkable if the shirt didn’t hug Eddie so perfectly that Richie had to keep his eyes from popping out of his head. He’s fine. It’s all fine.

“So you’re telling me,” Richie says around a mouthful of pasta, “That you picked the world’s most boring job because you couldn’t think of anything else?”

“Shut up, Dickwad,” Eddie says, dropping his fork with a huff. “I was in college! I didn’t know what the fuck I wanted to do with my life! All I knew is that I wanted to move out of my mom’s house and that I wanted to make money as soon as possible.”

“So state auditor because . . .?”

“Because after being an accountant for five years, I got a divorce, decided to move to a different city, and decided that sitting at the same desk every day for the rest of my life was not what I wanted to do.”

Richie blinks at Eddie. There’s a lot to unpack in what he just said. Eddie hasn’t mentioned a divorce before. Sure, they’ve talked about non-work-related things the past month, but he guesses they haven’t got that personal yet.

“Sorry about the divorce,” Richie says eventually, unsure of what else to say. “That must have been hard.”

“Not really,” Eddie replies with a shrug, taking another bite of his food. “It was several years ago now. And considering that I’m gay, it wasn’t really going to ever work out with her anyway.”

“Ah,” Richie replies, watching Eddie. Eddie seems fine. He’s eating his chicken parmesan with a slight smile on his face, and he clearly is not distressed at all by talking about his divorce. The last thing Richie needs is to make him mad while they’re in Pennsylvania with only each other.

“Seriously, Rich,” Eddie says, the nickname rolling off of his tongue so casually. Eddie hasn’t called him that before, but Richie wants him to say it again. “It’s fine. She’s remarried. We just weren’t good for each other, and the gay thing really can quite effectively put an end to a marriage.”

“What about you?” Eddie asks after a few minutes of silence. “What made you want to get into local government?”

Richie shrugs. “I can’t really place it,” he says. “Even as a kid I was always interested. I did mock government in high school. And then once I graduated college, there was a job open in the Parks Department and it just felt like the right fit.”

Eddie hums, setting his fork onto his empty plate and watching him. “You’re good at it,” he says after a few seconds. “And you clearly love it.”

Eddie’s hand rests on the table in front of him, palm facing up, and Richie swears it slides a little bit closer to him. Richie stares at it. Is he just resting it there? That’s not a very normal position, but Eddie is kind of weird sometimes, but –

Richie’s thoughts are cut off when Eddie wiggles his fingers, just slightly. Okay. Sure. Richie isn’t _that_ dumb that he can’t take a hint.

Richie slides his hand into Eddie’s, feeling his cheeks getting warm as Eddie looks down towards the table with a small smile. They sit like that for a few minutes, their hands entwined. Eddie’s thumb rubs slow circles on the back of Richie’s, and Richie thinks Eddie is about to say something when the waitress comes back to the table with a grin.

“Ready for the check?” She asks, smiling at them. Richie quickly pulls his hand away and drops it into his lap. “One check or two?”

“One, please,” he tells her. “Thanks.”

The waitress skips away, and Richie pulls his card out of his wallet. “Uh, give this to her when she comes back,” Richie tells Eddie. “I gotta go to the bathroom.”

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks as Richie gets up. “Should I –”

“Fine, just, be right back!”

Richie jogs in the direction of the bathroom before doing a loop and sliding out the side entrance. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and quickly dials Stan’s number, leaning against the outside wall of the restaurant.

He’s fucked. He is so fucked. He likes Eddie, he has for a while now, he thinks. He likes him physically, obviously, he is still Richie’s dream man based solely on his appearance. But he also likes when Eddie laughs, he likes his insults and how he’s like a firecracker of anger. He’s more than just a state auditor, he’s someone Richie could honestly imagine spending the rest of his life –

Richie must have dialed Stan’s number during his thinking, because he’s interrupted by Stan’s voice through his phone.

“Hey,” Stan says. “What’s up? How’s Pennsylvania?”

“I’m probably going to sleep with Eddie,” Richie blurts out, completely ignoring all of Stan’s questions. “I mean, that’s a bad idea, right?”

“Oh boy,” Stan says with a sigh. “I mean, it’s not great. But it’s not bad?”

“But it’s a conflict of interest. He’s literally here to determine if we get to keep our jobs or not.”

“That’s true, but . . . I don’t think that should be the only reason you don’t?”

“Maybe. Ugh. I gotta go,” Richie says. “He’s still in the restaurant.”

“Wait, are you guys on a date?” Stan says.

“Bye!” Richie says as he hangs up his phone, sliding it back into his pocket before taking a deep breath and jogging back into the restaurant.

“Hey, sorry,” Richie says as he slides back into the booth. He takes his card and puts it back in his wallet. “Line for the bathroom and then Stan called.”

Eddie nods, looking down at the table. Richie frowns a little, trying to meet Eddie’s eyes.

“Ready to go?” Eddie says, sliding out of the booth. Richie follows behind him, catching up next to him as they start walking back towards the hotel. They walk in silence, Richie frowning as Eddie’s hands stay shoved into his pockets, watching the ground as he walks. Maybe he misread the handhold? Friends hold hands all the time, right?

Richie glances at Eddie in the elevator. “Eds?” He says softly, trying to snap Eddie out of whatever silent reverie he’s been in since the restaurant.

Eddie’s eyes snap up from the ground to look at Richie. His are downcast, creased in the corner with a slight frown. The elevator pings and Richie and Eddie step out onto their floor and start walking towards their rooms. Outside of Eddie’s room, Richie decides he’s had enough of the silent game. He reaches out and grabs Eddie’s elbow, turning him around so that he’s facing Richie.

“Talk to me,” Richie says quietly. They’re close enough that Eddie could hear Richie if he whispered. Eddie looks down at the ground before looking back at Richie.

“Did I misread things?” Eddie whispers. “I didn’t mean to make a move, but I thought . . .” Eddie trails off. “Sorry.”

“What?” Richie says with a frown. “I mean, I wasn’t sure it was a date, but I don’t . . . You didn’t misread anything.” Richie says the last part softly, watching Eddie’s face. Eddie looks a little brighter, a little less apprehensive than he did before.

“You just ran off so quick, I thought I might have made it weird,” Eddie replies.

“Sorry, I just was having a, uh, minor freak out?” Richie replies with a grin. “It’s not every day a hot man takes my hand in a restaurant, Eds.”

Eddie lets out a small laugh and ducks his head. “Shut up.”

Richie takes a step closer to Eddie, causing Eddie to take a small step back before running into the door behind him. Richie bites his lip, watching as Eddie leans against the door and looks at him.

“But I don’t know if this is a good idea,” Richie continues, his voice a whisper. “Conflict of interest?”

“It’s pretty much been a conflict of interest since I found you on the floor under your desk the first day we met,” Eddie admits softly.

Eddie brings one of his hands up and gently rests it on Richie’s chest. Richie blinks and swallows, the feeling of Eddie’s hand, the weight and the heat of it on Richie’s chest causing Richie’s head to spin.

Richie watches him, unsure of how to proceed. Eddie’s muscles are shifting as he brings his hand up higher to rest on the side of Richie’s neck.

“I like you, Richie,” Eddie whispers after a few seconds, when it must become clear that Richie isn’t going to reply. “I haven’t felt like this about anybody, I don’t think.”

Richie looks up at the ceiling for a second, his heart thumping at Eddie’s words for a moment before he surges forward. He’s had enough waiting, he thinks. He’s probably been waiting almost 35 years for this.

All at once, Richie backs Eddie up completely to the door and kisses him, hard and fast and a little dirtier than a first kiss usually is. Eddie is ready but still a little surprised, a small sound of confusion coming out of him before his arm wraps completely around Richie’s neck, pulling him closer. Richie’s hands come to rest low on Eddie’s waist, pressing closer to him as Eddie lets out a soft moan against his mouth. Richie is pretty sure he could die right on the spot.

Richie pulls away after a few more seconds, resting his forehead against the side of Eddie’s head. His lips feel swollen and bruised from the intensity of the kiss, his body on fire everywhere he’s pressed against Eddie. Eddie’s hand combs through Richie’s hair, his other coming to wrap around Richie’s upper back to keep him close.

“What do we do now?” Richie whispers, his lips brushing against the side of Eddie’s forehead with every word.

“I don’t know.”

“If it wasn’t clear, I like you too,” Richie says softly.

“I gathered,” Eddie replies with a huff, his fingers scratching gently in Richie’s hair.

“We could get in trouble,” Richie says after a moment, his voice quiet. “It could look like I’m bribing you.”

“I know,” Eddie replies. “I don't know what to do.”

Richie kisses him again, cupping Eddie’s cheek and holding him in place. Eddie moans into his mouth, one of his legs trailing up Richie’s calf before wrapping around it, pulling him closer, closer, closer. Richie’s mouth trails down Eddie’s jaw, licking and nipping as he reaches Eddie’s neck just below his ear.

Eddie gasps quietly, his hand grabbing at Richie’s hair. “Rich,” he says, his voice breathy. “Can we . . .?” Eddie nods his head towards the door to his room, reaching into his pocket to pull out the keycard.

Richie nods and Eddie scans the card, pulling down on the handle and opening the door. They stumble inside, Richie not wanting to let go of Eddie and Eddie trying to keep Richie as close as possible. The door slams behind Richie, and Richie suddenly finds himself pressed against the inside of the door.

Eddie crowds into his space, pressing his body against Richie’s and kissing him again. The kiss is hard and dirty, all tongue and teeth, and it makes Richie feel weak at the knees. He tugs Eddie closer by the hips, his hands sliding just above his ass and pulling them even closer.

“Fuck, Eddie,” he moans as Eddie starts trailing sloppy kisses down Richie’s neck. Every spot that Eddie kisses feels like it’s on fire, it feels like Richie is going to burst out of his skin. He’s on fire, his head swimming with nothing but thoughts of Eddie and his mouth and his body.

Eddie bites gently at the base of Richie’s neck, and Richie lets out a moan and his hips jut forward into Eddie’s. Eddie pauses, his mouth resting at the base of Richie’s neck as he thinks. Richie is sure he can feel how hard he is, there is no way he didn’t notice that. Richie is short of breath, all but panting as he and Eddie just stand there.

“Should we –” Eddie starts before trailing off.

“I don't know,” Richie replies. “I mean, fuck Eds, look at you. I want to.”

“I do, too.”

But they both just stand there. Richie rubs his hand along Eddie’s lower back, sliding it up under the hem of his shirt and feeling the soft skin of his low back. Eddie moans quietly before lifting his head back up and kissing Richie again.

Richie backs Eddie into the bed, kicking his shoes off quickly as Eddie does the same before crawling onto the bed. Eddie’s back hits the bed and he grabs Richie’s shirt, pulling him down on top of him and kissing him again.

“Conflict of interest,” Eddie mumbles against Richie’s lips, one hand sliding up under Richie’s shirt and feeling along his chest.

Richie starts kissing along Eddie’s jaw and down his neck, sucking at a spot that causes Eddie to gasp beneath him.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, a hand tangling in Richie’s hair. “Rich.”

Richie knows they probably shouldn’t. Kissing is one thing, but sex is another completely. They could get in serious trouble if anybody found out, if it seemed at all like Eddie’s decisions were influenced because of their relationship.

But Eddie blinks up at him, his eyes wide and his pupils blown, his lips swollen and red from kissing and now, with a light bite mark just above his collarbone.

“Are you sure?” Richie asks as he looks at Eddie, cupping his cheek.

Eddie nods, keeping eye contact with Richie as his hand trails down Richie’s chest, popping the button of Richie’s jeans. “I’m sure.”

Richie groans and kisses him again. At least it’s going to be worth it.

* * *

“I still don’t know what to do,” Eddie says later that night. Richie glances over at him from where he’s grabbing a bottle of water. Eddie is spread on the bed with just a sheet draped over his hips, his arm bent under his head as he looks at the ceiling.

Richie could describe the past few hours with many, many words, but he doesn’t think any of them would properly describe how it felt to be with Eddie. It was more than just sex, more than just jacking off with another guy. He likes Eddie. Eddie is hot as hell and he seems to think Richie is, too.

Richie hands Eddie a bottle of water before sitting on the bed next to him.

“I think we have a few options,” Richie says, capping his water and setting it on the nightstand next to him. “We tell Ben and fill out a relationship disclosure form, but then you might be taken off of our case.”

“So not an option,” Eddie says. “Because then I’d have to come back here.”

“Right,” Richie replies. “So then we could just not see each other. Pretend this didn’t happen since we got it all out of our systems?”

“You think this got it out of our systems?” Eddie says with a laugh, his eyebrow raised. He rolls onto his side and rests his hand on Richie’s bare chest, tweaking his thumb over Richie’s nipple and causing Richie to groan. “I don’t think it did.”

“Okay, no, good point,” Richie says breathily. “So then we just . . . keep it a secret? Until after the festival?”

“I think we can,” Eddie replies. “I won’t let this affect my job. It’s all numbers and I would never purposefully botch numbers. Not even for you. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Richie says quickly. “I wouldn’t want you to, anyway.”

Eddie rests his head on Richie’s chest, and Richie wraps an arm around him. He doesn’t want to think about what’s going to happen once the festival is over, once Eddie and Bev have to return to Pennsylvania and move on to another state. The festival is in just under a month now. They have time, but not very much of it.

It’s petrifying how much he wants Eddie to stay. They have only known each other for a month, but he admits he wants Eddie here and in his life. He wants to see him at work every day, he wants to have lunch with him in the courtyard and come home to him. He wants him to stay. He wants him in more ways than just one.

“No PDA in the office, obviously,” Eddie says, snapping Richie out of his thoughts. “No sex in your office. No hint that we are anything other than normal friends when in vicinity of work.”

“Got it,” Richie says. “So no blowies in the bathroom?”

“Ugh, like I would ever do that in there anyway,” Eddie says. “That’s disgusting. You’re disgusting.”

Richie laughs and presses a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head, and he tries to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut. He has Eddie right now. Eddie is here with him and he likes him.

But for how long?

* * *

Once they return to Maine, Richie goes into full festival planning mode. His days are filled talking to vendors and organizing the event. He’s in meeting after meeting, and if he’s not in a meeting then he’s on the phone or at the park. It’s all logistics and numbers and planning, and Richie goes home at 9 PM at the earliest most nights.

But through all of it, Eddie is there. None of Richie’s coworkers have seemed to question why Eddie goes to the park with him, or why he’ll just sit in Richie’s office with him while Richie does paperwork. He’ll sit on the other side of Richie’s desk and do his own work. Richie likes to watch as he plugs numbers into his calculator, his fingers moving fast on the calculator and then faster on the computer as he types whatever he just calculated into his spreadsheet. Eddie will glance up and smile at him, ask what the fuck he’s looking at, and then he’ll look back down and keep going about his work.

Richie cannot admit that he might be in love. Not when Eddie is leaving in a week.

Eddie will sometimes come over at night, and they’ll rest on the couch and watch trashy TV after the long day of work. They’ll end the night in Richie’s bed, sharing kisses and hands and mouths and everything else. Eddie will fall asleep, and Richie will watch him sleep for a few minutes before falling asleep himself.

When Eddie stays over, he will always leave five minutes before Richie so that they don’t arrive at the same time.

“Wouldn’t it just be easier to take the same car?” Richie asked one morning. “Since you’re probably just coming back here anyway?”

“Rich,” Eddie said softly. “You know we can’t.”

And Richie does know. He just can’t blame his soft heart for wanting to flaunt Eddie around. He hasn’t felt like this before and, maybe in a different universe, he would be able to tell both Eddie and the world that he is falling in love with Edward F. Kaspbrak, state auditor.

Three days before the festival, Richie groans and leans back in his chair, scrubbing his hands over his face. Everything is almost together, and it seems like things are going to be perfect. The forecast is sunny still, thank god, and all the vendors are setting up their tents and booths today and tomorrow. He was somehow able to secure a small petting zoo of local goats, sheep, and mini horses at the last minute, so he has to head out to the park today to show the owners where to set up the fences and tents.

He just hopes he did enough.

“Where are you going?” Eddie asks, jogging up next to him as Richie exits the building.

“Oh, hey,” Richie says with a smile. “I didn’t know you were here yet.”

“Came in early to try and get some numbers plugged so I don’t have to do as much after the event,” Eddie replies with a shrug.

“Headed to the park,” Richie says. “Want to come?”

Eddie nods and slides into the passenger side of Richie’s car. Richie hops in and closes the door behind him before pulling out of the parking lot.

“Petting zoo came through,” Richie says as he pulls out onto the road.

“Oh, that’s great!” Eddie exclaims. “That will be fun for the kids.”

Richie hums, smiling as Eddie grabs his free hand and holds it over the center console. Eddie’s thumb traces circles along the back of Richie’s hand as they drive in silence the rest of the way.

What is Richie going to do without this? He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to feel like this again. He feels that he is Eddie’s, signed, sealed, and delivered. But if only it could stay like that.

In the park, Richie heads over to meet the petting zoo owners. He points around at where they’ll be able to set up, and he gives them instructions for how the event is going to go. Once he’s done with them, Richie walks around and looks at everything that’s already set up. This is the biggest the festival has ever been, but it has to be. He thinks he’s done enough to save the department. He hopes.

Richie looks around for Eddie, finding him under the shade of one of the tents and talking on the phone. His brow is creased, and Richie can tell his voice is raised at whoever he is talking to on the phone.

“Bev, listen to me,” Richie hears Eddie say as he walks closer. “It’s just –”

Eddie is cut off by whatever Bev is saying.

“It’s not about _you_ , Bev, it’s about . . .” Eddie trails off when he sees Richie approaching. “I gotta go,” he tells Bev before hanging up the phone.

“Everything okay?” Richie asks hesitantly.

“Peachy,” Eddie says before storming away.

Richie frowns as he watches him walk away. Eddie has been on edge the past few days, taking more phone calls than usual and meeting with the city manager a few times. Richie tries not to overthink it, but he wonders if they maybe aren’t as safe as Richie was thinking.

It makes sense, he thinks. If Eddie is projecting a poor outcome, it makes sense that he would already be talking with the city manager and the government about how to allocate resources once the Park's Department is gone. It would give him less work to do after the event, and then he’ll be able to get home sooner rather than later.

On the drive home, Eddie doesn’t say anything, which only makes Richie really fear the worst now. He wants to ask Eddie, to see how they might be faring, but he doesn't want any extra knowledge. He has to believe that they did enough. He tried his damn hardest. If that wasn’t enough, he really doesn’t know what would be.

“See you tonight?” Richie asks as they park outside of the building. He probably won’t see Eddie the rest of the day, as Richie’s schedule is filled with meetings until late into the evening.

“I don’t think so,” Eddie says quietly, looking his hands in his lap. “Sorry, I just. Have some stuff to take care of tonight.”

“Sure,” Richie says. His heart drops a little in his chest, but he chooses to ignore it. He glances around to make sure nobody is looking at them before leaning over and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Eddie’s cheek.

 _I love you,_ he thinks before getting out of the car. It should startle him, how easy it is for him to think that, but it doesn’t. Of course he was going to love Eddie Kaspbrak in this life.

Richie doesn’t look back to see when Eddie gets out of the car. He heads into the building and resolutely does not think about Eddie the rest of the day.

Two more days. Two more days until the festival.

The days pass in a blur. He hardly sees Eddie because they are both so busy. Eddie comes over for dinner the night before the festival, but he leaves quickly after, muttering something about a phone call and a meeting he has to make before the night is over.

Richie doesn’t think about how he’s resigned to the end. He can’t. But given how the past few days have gone, it almost feels like Eddie has moved away already. Hopefully, after all of this, he still has his job. He’s going to need it to recover from his heart being shattered into a million pieces.

“Just you and me tonight, kids,” Richie says to his house full of pets. Greta comes and perches on his lap before curling in a ball, her tail covering her nose. “Just you and me, like it always has been and probably always will be.”

* * *

“Okay people!” Richie shouts to get the attention of his coworkers. They are gathered in the employee tent at the festival, ten minutes before it starts for the public. “This is it.”

The tent fills with whoops and cheers. Eddie is standing to the side of the tent with a bottle of water in his hand. Richie glances at him and smiles a little brighter when he sees Eddie smiling softly at him.

“We’ve worked long and hard for this,” Richie says. “And we don’t . . . I know we don’t know what’s going to happen after this, but I just. I love you guys. You did this. We did our best. And you’re the best friends I could ask for.”

Richie clears his throat and looks up at the ceiling, blinking away the sudden tears that swelled in his eyes. Just as he looks back down, he’s swarmed by all of his coworkers hugging him and cooing at him.

“This is your baby, Rich,” Ben says from somewhere in the huddle. “You deserve some credit, too.”

Richie sniffs again. Fucking crier that he is. He’s just emotional; it’s a big day

At some point in the hug, Eddie and Bev are brought into the hug. Richie can feel Eddie’s arm slide over his low back, and he feels a small kiss pressed to the side of his neck as Eddie’s arm tightens around him.

Once they extract themselves from the hug, Richie doles out the assignments for the day. “I think we’re ready,” he says with a grin, and everyone whoops again.

The festival goes off without a hitch. Richie does his rounds, talking to visitors and kids and volunteers. Everybody is having a great time, and there seem to be no issues. They have more vendors than they ever had before, and the band they hired for this year is amazing. Richie really, truly thinks there is nothing else he could have done.

If this doesn’t save their jobs, then he doesn't know what else could have.

“Can I talk to you?”

Richie spins around, trying to find the source of the voice. He sees Eddie on the side of the employee tent, and Richie feels his heart drop a little. He knows it’s never good when someone asks to talk. He isn’t dumb, and he has pretty much been resigning himself to this talk for the past week.

“Sure,” Richie says after a second, following Eddie to behind the tent. It’s quieter back here, the sound of the festival muffled by the distance between them. “What’s up?”

Eddie takes a step closer. He places a hand on the side of Richie’s neck and leans up to kiss him.

Okay, so this is not what Richie was expecting. He makes a noise of surprise before wrapping one arm around Eddie’s waist while the other cups Eddie’s cheek. He pulls Eddie closer, deepening the kiss as Eddie lets out a small moan.

He knows they’re in public; literally anybody in the town of Derry could come back here and see them. But, if this is the last day Richie is going to have this, if this is the last time he’s going to kiss Eddie, then he really can’t think of a better way to be spending his time. It feels like a first kiss and a last kiss, a kiss that was meant to last a lifetime. Richie wishes that it would.

They pull apart after several minutes, their breathing heavy. Richie slides his hand out from where it crept up under the front of Eddie’s shirt. Eddie leans his forehead on Richie’s shoulder, and they just stand there.

“Do you think it was enough?” Richie whispers.

“I hope so,” Eddie replies quietly. “I really do.”

They stand there in silence again, Richie hugging Eddie closer. _I love you, I love you, I love you,_ he thinks. And he thinks he wants to tell him, but it wouldn’t be fair to either of them.

Eddie steps back after a few minutes, but Richie thinks that he looks reluctant. Richie would gladly stand there with Eddie in his arms the rest of the festival if it meant he never had to let him go.

“Rich,” Eddie starts, but then pauses. He grabs both of Richie’s hands in his own and looks down at them. “Rich, you know . . .”

“I know, Spagheds,” Richie replies. “You’re leaving soon. I know. It was fun while it lasted, right?”

And damn, Richie really is emotional today. He brings a hand up and swipes the tears away from his eyes before taking a step back.

“Richie, no, that’s –” Eddie starts, but Richie takes another step away.

“I get it,” Richie says quickly. “I do. It’s okay. I’m just glad I got the time with you that I did.”

And Richie walks away. He rounds the corner of the tent, blinking quickly as he walks into the sunlight and the noise of the festival. He takes a breath to steady himself. Now is not the time to mope about this. He has a job to do, even if it might be the last day he has a job.

A day of lasts. He thinks it’s fitting that everything good in his life might be coming to an end the same day. He’ll be able to get a new job, he knows this. It won’t be hard. But will he be able to find a new Eddie?

That, he thinks, might be a little bit harder.

“Hey dickhead!” Richie hears from one of the tents. He looks over and sees Stan waving him over, and he trots over with a laugh. Maybe it’s not completely a day of lasts. He has Stan and the rest of his coworkers. He has his house and his five cats and a dog. He has things. Just maybe not the thing he wants the most.

* * *

The festival comes to an end around 11 PM. The fireworks end, and the band packs up as all the remaining visitors leave and the vendors take off.

Richie watches as the park returns to just a park, with maybe a little more litter scattered around than before. He starts to pick up some of the scattered garbage. Two and a half months of work for one day, one night. One event to save the jobs of six people.

Eddie and Bev drove back to the office to calculate numbers. Eddie had insisted on finishing everything tonight; they were caught up with everything except the calculations from today, and it would only take them a small bit of time to figure everything out. Which meant that the Parks Department would have their answer in just a little while now.

Richie looks around and smiles at his friends who remain. Stan and Patty are dancing to a song only in their heads under the moonlight. Bill and Mike are seated on a bench, with Bill’s head resting on Mike’s shoulder. Ben is on the phone, though, and when he looks over at Richie and starts walking towards him, Richie feels his heart stop in his chest.

“Bev and Eddie have the calculations,” Ben says slowly. “Do you want to hear them tonight or wait until our official meeting in the morning?”

“Tonight,” Richie says instantly. “I think I need to know tonight. For my own sanity.”

Ben nods and tells whoever is on the phone that he and Richie will be there soon. Richie waves goodbye to the other four as Ben and Richie get into the car and drive towards the office.

The drive is silent. Richie’s knee bounces up and down in the passenger seat, causing Ben to glance at him a few times.

“I know, you know,” Ben says, not taking his eyes off the road. “About you and Eddie.”

Richie freezes and blinks at him. How does he know? He and Eddie were so careful, they never so much as _touched_ in the office –

“Bev told me,” Ben continues, snapping Richie out of his thoughts. “I guess Eddie told her.”

“Oh,” Richie replies. He knew that Eddie told Bev, if only to have someone back them up if they needed an alibi or an excuse. “Well, I don’t think there is a ‘Me and Eddie’ anymore, so. Nothing to worry about.”

Ben glances over at Richie again, a small smile on his lips. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

Richie doesn’t know how to unpack that. “What do you know?” He asks, squinting at Ben. “Come on, Haystack, tell me your secrets.”

“I know nothing,” Ben says with a laugh. “I just hear things from Bev.” This time, as he says Bev’s name, his cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

“Bev, huh?” Richie asks wolfishly with a grin.

“Not yet,” Ben says. “But soon, I hope.”

“Might be hard with them going back to Pennsylvania,” Richie replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What?” Ben says as they pull into the parking lot. “Wait, Richie. Eddie hasn’t told you –?”

Richie is out of the car before Ben can finish his question. He is too wound up to sit in the car and chat any longer. Ben’s question is pushed to the back of Richie’s brain for the moment. No, Eddie hasn’t told him anything because Richie saved him from having to tell him he’s going back to Pennsylvania. They both know it, so Eddie doesn’t need to say it when Richie already knows. It would only make it hurt worse.

For now, what he needs to do is go into the building and find out if they were able to save the Parks and Recreation Department.

Richie pulls out his key to the building and unlocks the door, holding it open as Ben jogs to catch up to him.

“Richie, wait,” Ben says quickly. “You really should know that –”

“Listen,” Richie says. “Right now, all I can think about is what’s waiting for us in the office. If we still have a job or not. That is all I can think about right now, okay?” His voice cracks at the end, and Ben looks alarmed as Richie fights back another round of tears.

“Okay,” Ben says softly, squeezing Richie’s arm. “Okay.”

They walk into the office, and Richie swallows when Bev and Eddie look up at him. They are seated at the round table in the center of the office, both of them on their computers with spreadsheets printed out next to them. Eddie looks like he wants to say something to Richie, but he glances at Ben and looks back down at his computer before he does.

Richie lets out a little breath and looks at him. Eddie looks tired. It’s been a long day, a long week, a long _month_ for the both of them. Richie understands the sentiment of wanting to sleep for the next three days.

“What’s the verdict?” Ben says quietly. Bev and Eddie look at each other before nodding at the two empty chairs on either side of them.

Richie takes a seat, pulling it out and pretending he doesn’t feel Eddie watching him as he moves. He can’t think like that, not when this could be the last moment that he has everything.

It’s silent for a few more moments before Eddie finally speaks.

“It’s good,” he says slowly. Richie’s eyes snap up from the table, and Eddie is looking directly at him with a small smile. “It’s really good.”

Richie feels like the wind has been punched out of him. Good usually only means one thing, people don’t say something is _good_ if they’re about to tell you bad news. Eddie said it was good, not once, but _twice._

Eddie is still looking at him, and Richie wants to just tell him. He wants to shout it from the roof, out into the empty halls of City Hall. He wants Eddie to know, and he wants Eddie to stay. He wants Eddie in his life.

Before Richie can do anything he might regret, Eddie continues.

“Based on numbers, you have equalized and now have excess funds,” Eddie goes on, pointing to numbers on the screen. “This combined with numbers for other departments gives you enough funds to continue on. It’s good. We’ll put together a budget for you guys so that you can sustain this without us having to come back, but otherwise, you’re safe.”

Richie smiles and brings a hand up to his mouth, looking at Ben. Ben is grinning and rubbing a hand over his face, looking up at the ceiling and doing a fist pump in the air.

They did it. He did it. All of his efforts were enough to save his job.

But Eddie’s words are rolling over in his head. _Without us having to come back._ All Richie wants is Eddie to come back. All Richie wants is for Eddie to stay.

He has his job now. He hasn’t felt this relieved since the day before Ben called him into his office to tell him the state auditors were coming. He has been a constant bundle of nerves, a live wire waiting to see what the future holds, if something will give him a spark or dampen him out for good.

Ben suddenly gets up from the table and walks around. He tugs Richie up by his arm and pulls him into a hug. His arms wrap tight around him, squishing Richie just a little bit. “You did it, Rich,” Ben says quietly, ruffling his hair before letting him go. “You did it.”

Richie smiles and sits back down, sniffing a little and wiping his eyes off with the back of his hand. He’s teared up more today than he has in the past five years combined. He really needs to get control of himself. But. He did it. They did it.

Richie stares at the table, thinking about the future and the past and everything in between. He knows they’ll still have some adjustments to make. He can hear Eddie typing away at what he assumes is the new budget and the suggestions for them so that they can sustain themselves from here on out without putting their jobs at jeopardy. But he gets to keep working here, at a job he loves and with friends he loves.

“Rich.”

Richie glances up when he hears his name, looking around at the table and noting with surprise that only Eddie is still there. Bev and Ben must have taken off, either to have a celebration of their own or to give Richie and Eddie some space. Either way, Richie didn’t notice that they left. Eddie spoke so quietly he almost didn’t hear him, which is unusual for the loud man that Eddie usually is.

Eddie is looking at him, his eyes downcast and his laptop shut in front of him. He turns so that he is fully facing Richie.

“Congrats,” Eddie says softly. “You did it.”

“Not on my own,” Richie replies, looking down at his lap.

“No, but. You still did it.”

Richie looks at him again. He feels his heart constricting in his chest, about to bust either from heartbreak or from desperation of wanting, _needing_ to tell this man that he loves him. He wants, wants, wants, but he is afraid he’s never going to have. Not forever.

“Good crew you have here,” Eddie says, looking around at the empty desks. “They’re good coworkers.”

“Thanks,” Richie deadpans with a small smile. “I raised them myself.”

Eddie laughs quietly, giving Richie a soft smile before he continues. “I wouldn’t mind working here.”

Richie freezes, still staring at Eddie. Eddie still has the small smile on his lips, but Richie thinks it’s getting bigger. He watches as Eddie scoots his chair closer to Richie’s, reaching out and grabbing one of Richie’s hands in his.

“Mike offered us a job,” Eddie says quietly, looking at their intertwined hands. “Bev and I. Says they could use some full-time budget counselors and on-staff accountants in City Hall.”

Richie blinks at him, opening his mouth to say something. But what can he say? Is this what Eddie wanted to tell him earlier, when Richie had assumed that he was just going to say he was leaving? Leaving Derry and leaving Richie?

Ben’s comment in the car suddenly makes sense. “Eddie hasn’t told you?” Ben had asked, and apparently, no, Eddie hadn’t told him. All of Eddie’s secret meetings and phone calls. He guesses his argument with Bev on the phone the other day was related to this. Everything is starting to make sense.

“Bev is taking it,” Eddie continues quietly. “She likes it here. I think she likes Ben, too.”

“What about you?” Richie asks, his voice finally working enough to croak the words out. “You said Bev’s taking it. Are you not taking it?”

And what would be the point of bringing it up if Eddie wasn’t even going to take the job? Just to tenderly put Richie’s heart back together with hope, only to stomp it to dust one last time?

“I. Um. I want to. I haven’t given a final word yet just because . . . I wasn’t sure if that would be received well,” Eddie says slowly. “By all.”

Eddie looks pointedly at Richie.

“By me?” Richie asks, his eyebrows raised a little.

“Yeah. I thought, I don’t know. I thought you might have just wanted this to be a limited time thing, but then, today, behind the tent . . .”

“Eddie,” Richie says, and now he’s moving. He grabs Eddie’s other hand and squeezes both of his hands. “Eds.”

Eddie looks at him, and Richie feels his heart start to swell again. “Bev is mad I haven’t decided yet,” Eddie says, looking at their hands. “She thinks I’d be abandoning her if I don’t take it.”

“Take it,” Richie whispers, so quickly and suddenly he surprises himself. He can hear the desperation in his voice, but he can’t even bring himself to care. He needs Eddie to know, needs him to know how desperately he feels for him, how wild and in love he feels just by being in Eddie’s presence. “Please. Take the job. Stay here with me.”

“With you?” Eddie replies, also whispering now. Richie doesn't know why they’re whispering, they are the only ones in the building at this hour, but it feels soft, intimate. Something just between them.

“With me.” Richie confirms. “Please. I . . . Eds. You have to know I love you. I’m in love with you. I want you. I need you. Stay with me.”

Eddie watches him for a moment before he starts forward, all but jumping out of his chair. He crosses the short distance between them quickly, so quickly Richie barely even registers what’s happening before Eddie climbs in Richie’s lap and loops his arms around his neck. Richie blinks at him, his hands sliding around Eddie’s waist before he can even think about it.

“Fuck, Richie,” Eddie says. Richie looks up at him, seeing the mist in Eddie’s eyes. Eddie leans closer until their noses are touching. “I didn’t . . . I didn’t know . . .”

“I didn’t exactly tell you,” Richie whispers, his breath fanning across Eddie’s lips, close enough that they’re almost touching now. “I thought you were going back. It would have hurt too much to say it only for you to leave.”

Eddie leans in and kisses him. Richie moans in surprise as Eddie’s hand grips the curls at the base of his neck, his glasses becoming skewed on his face as Eddie’s nose bumps them off-center in an attempt to get Richie even closer.

“I love you, too,” Eddie breathes against his lips when he pulls away, only just far enough so that he can talk. His lips brush against Richie’s with every word, and Richie wants to do nothing more than lean in and kiss him again. “I want you. I want to stay.”

“Then stay,” Richie whispers, leaning in to kiss him again. “Stay for the job. Stay for me.”

Eddie leans in and kisses him again, tugging at Richie’s hair as he kisses him open-mouthed, hot and heavy. It’s a kiss filled with love and lust and everything in between; everything Richie was afraid to say that he wanted, everything that he didn’t want to admit that he needed.

Richie’s hands slide down Eddie’s back until they’re resting on the curve of his ass. Eddie moans into his neck before pressing another wet kiss there, pulling Richie’s head to the side with his hand still in Richie’s hair to give him more room to work.

“Come home with me,” Richie whispers as Eddie kisses back up to his ear and nips at his earlobe. “Come home with me and never leave.”

“Always,” Eddie replies, kissing Richie’s mouth again and fisting his shirt with the hand not in Richie’s hair. “Always.”

* * *

The ride home is short, but not short enough. Richie’s hand slides higher up on Eddie’s thigh the whole way home, and he has to fight every temptation to not cup Eddie through his jeans in the comfort of his own car. He has a bed at home that will be way more comfortable than the passenger seat of the car.

They stumble into the house, greeting Greta, Bonk, Ralph, Sparkles, Dynamite and, of course Butters. Richie says all of their names in quick succession, giving them all a “Hi!” and a quick pat or scratch as Eddie drags Richie towards the bedroom, his mouth latched on Richie’s neck the entire journey through the house.

“I don’t know how you keep them all alive,” Eddie mumbles as he pushes Richie onto the bed, taking his shirt off and climbing on top of him. Richie blinks up at him, moaning as Eddie kisses him and starts pushing Richie’s shirt up and off his chest and over his head. “There’s so many. I would forget about one.”

“Hard to forget about them when they beg for food every five minutes,” Richie mumbles, groaning as Eddie starts kissing down his chest. “You’re just going to be one more mouth to feed when you move in.”

Eddie pauses from where halfway down Richie’s chest. He looks up at Richie with wide eyes, and Richie thinks back about what he just said.

“I mean, only if you want to,” Richie starts to babble. “You obviously don’t have to, we haven’t known each other that long, I shouldn’t have assumed –”

“Shut up,” Eddie replies, coming back up and kissing Richie, hard and fast and enough to make Richie instantly breathless. “If you want me to, I want to. It will save me from having to find a place to live just for a few months, anyway.”

Richie growls and kisses Eddie again, quickly rolling them over until he’s hovering over Eddie. Eddie is laughing, his arms wrapped around Richie’s shoulders and tugging him closer.

Richie kisses him again, thinking about how he could listen to Eddie laughing forever. He thinks about how he did come out with everything in the end. He has the job. He has the guy. He has the house and the six pets and the best coworkers in the world, and he wants all of it forever.

But for now, as Richie kisses down Eddie’s chest and lower, lower, lower, he just wants this. He wants Eddie moaning underneath him, chanting his name as Richie takes him into his mouth. He wants Eddie threading his fingers in Richie’s hair and tugging until Richie groans around him, sending enough vibration through Eddie that Eddie comes with a start, breathing heavily and still mumbling Richie’s name. He wants Eddie to take him gently in his hand, stroking Richie to within an inch of his life before telling Richie to come for him. He wants Eddie to call him sweetheart now and forever, in all contexts of life, in all times and places.

As they lie there after, Richie’s head resting on Eddie’s chest and Eddie’s hand combing through Richie’s hair, Richie presses small kisses to Eddie’s skin.

“Say it again,” Richie mumbles into his chest.

“I love you, sweetheart” Eddie says, voice quiet. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

* * *

After a peaceful weekend where Richie did nothing but . . . well, he did nothing but Eddie all weekend, if he’s honest. Eddie bent over the kitchen table. Richie on the couch. Eddie on the floor. On the bed, against the wall –

Richie can’t think about this as he’s about to walk into City Hall. He gets out of the car, smiling as Eddie slides out of the passenger seat and trots up next to him. Eddie looks at him for a second before smiling and taking his hand.

Richie pauses right outside the door and grins at Eddie before kissing him right in the entrance. They have a meeting with Mike in ten minutes to disclose their relationship, and Eddie has some papers to sign to make his job here official. The near future for Eddie will be chaotic – he has an apartment back in Pennsylvania to pack up and he has to officially quit his job as a state auditor. Just loose ends that need to be tied up so that he can start his future in Derry. His future with Richie. But he’s ready. They’re ready.

“You ready?” Richie asks as he pulls away, laughing when he sees Ben’s head retreat from where he was looking at them through one of the adjacent windows. The fucking spy.

“Yeah,” Eddie replies, patting Richie’s chest once before stepping away and grabbing his hand. “Let’s fucking do this.”

Richie and Eddie walk into City Hall hand and hand, ready for the world that awaits them.

6 MONTHS LATER

Richie, once again, finds himself underneath his desk. The last time he was in this position was over nine months ago, when he thought he was going to have to cancel the summer festival. Now, he’s lying under his desk simply because he’s tired and he wants to.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He hears a loud voice say from the direction of the door.

Richie grins but makes no attempt to move. “Chillaxin,” he replies. “I’m having déjà vu.”

Eddie’s head comes into view as he crouches down by his head, and Richie grins up at him. “Hey baby,” Richie says with a wolfish grin.

“Shut up, dickwad,” Eddie says with a huff, but he sits down right by Richie’s head and leans down to kiss him, his thumb stroking Richie’s cheek. “I love you.”

“I’m getting some mixed signals here, Eds,” Richie says with a huff. “Love or hate?”

“Both simultaneously, somehow,” Eddie muses, rubbing his hand through Richie’s hair. Eddie leans down again to kiss his forehead before standing back up. “Come have lunch with me whenever you’re done studying the underside of your desk?”

“Of course,” Richie replies. “Save me a seat.”

“I bought you a cookie,” Eddie replies as he exits Richie’s office. “Hurry before Bill eats it.”

Richie shoots up, careful to not bang his head on the desk and sprints towards Eddie.

“Do not give that fucker my cookie!” Richie all but shouts, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist and pulling him towards him, grinning as Eddie squirms in his grasp. “Mine!”

“No PDA in the office,” Ben says casually as he passes by them without even looking at them. They hear that probably once a day, if not more.

“You heard the man,” Eddie says, shoving Richie off of him with a huff. “No PDA in the office.”

But Richie knows Eddie literally cannot stop touching him and, true to his habits, Eddie reaches for his hand a second later and tugs him towards the courtyard.

Eddie sits pressed against Richie’s side as he eats his sandwich, and Richie grins at him as he gets a dab of mayonnaise on his cheek. Richie wipes it off with his thumb, smiling as Eddie frowns at him.

“Do not put that in your mouth after it’s been on my face,” he tells Richie. “That’s disgusting.”

Richie licks it off of his thumb.

“Ugh,” Eddie says with a sigh. “Disgusting human.”

Ben and Bev sit across from them, with Stan, Patty, Bill, and Mike on either side of them. Richie thinks they might just be eight City Hall Losers, but he couldn’t have asked for better friends or a better future.

He almost didn’t have this. He almost didn’t have his job, his coworkers, his Eddie. He leans into Eddie’s side and presses a kiss into his shoulder, thinking about what life would be like if Eddie returned to Pennsylvania. But that isn’t what happened, and that wasn’t their future.

On a tree, in a park just down the street from them as they sit outside at City Hall, a freshly carved ‘R + E’ can be seen on the Kissing Tree. Richie carved it a few days ago when he came to assess the park for maintenance. He felt silly, like a teenager, but he pulled his pocket knife out and carved it nonetheless. Richie will show it to Eddie in the near future, when he gets down on one knee and asks him to marry him next to the tree.

But for now, Richie leans into Eddie and smiles.

“You okay?” Eddie murmurs, low enough so that only Richie can hear him.

“Never better,” Richie replies, and he means it. He kisses Eddie’s shoulder again before resting his cheek there, smiling as Eddie slides a hand onto Richie’s thigh.

He has really, really never been better.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is probably rambly, but I had fun writing it and clearly could not shut up about them as this was 14k words longer than I thought it was going to be! 
> 
> Thanks for reading if you got this far! 
> 
> You can find me @edskasper on twitter if you want to come chat :)


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